Lost Without You
by SoraTakinouchi
Summary: FlashFrost/Snowbarry: Barry Allen is stubborn when it comes to Caitlin Snow - or more accurately and appropriately named - Killer Frost.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own The Flash. Yet._

The sound of brisk footsteps, more than one set, echoing down the empty cortex made Cisco tensed, causing him to pause in his work. He licked his lips nervously as he looked up to see Barry and Caitlin coming in, the temperature of the room immediately falling drastically and Cisco found himself automatically increasing the room temperature, his eyes on Caitlin. Then, out of pure disbelief even after several months, his gaze fell on their interlocked fingers, hands firmly pressed together. Inwardly, he marvelled at the easy way Barry was able to do that, an unconscious habit as easy as breathing.

"There was a disturbance somewhere to the north," Barry stated in a hurried tone, circling around the table to face the computer Cisco was working on, towing Caitlin with him. Cisco barely stopped himself from flinching visibly (though a shudder _did_ pass through him, going unnoticed by the pair) at the sudden decrease of space between him and Caitlin.

Or so Barry insisted on calling her.

The girl with shimmering pale skin, wide, restless blue eyes always fidgeting, and cold cold body, hardly resembled the brown-eyed, warm Doctor Caitlin Snow he knew. She was still beautiful, as Caitlin had always been, but now there was a hunter's sharpness on her face, made prominent by the sharp angles and eager eyes, never still for more than a few seconds.

As if sensing his internal struggle to hide his repulsion from her, she stopped short a few feet away, her hand in Barry's hand outstretching their arms between them.

"Frank Miller," Cisco said, cursing himself mentally for being such an asshole, "A mine worker by profession. He was on duty when the particle accelerator exploded."

"At night?" Caitlin asked, making Cisco flinch visibly this time. Ever since her transformation into Killer Frost (a name Barry hated from the start), her voice had gone slightly hollow, a faint vibration of her windpipe vaguely familiar to the one Flash had used to conceal his identity.

"In mines, nights and days are the same," he replied, as normally as possible.

 _Get a grip Cisco,_ he scolded himself, _this is the same Caitlin who was your friend._ _Or at least slightly the same person._

"Well, what's his specialty?" Barry asked, leaning forward to make sense of the grainy CCTV footage playing on the screen.

"Rocks? Sand?" Caitlin guessed, still trying to give Cisco his space while trying to see the footage between the heads of the two boys.

Cisco smiled hesitantly, glancing at her once before shifting his eyes back to the screen, "That's right . . . Caitlin."

If either Barry or Caitlin sensed his hesitation over her name, they ignored it.

"He can make boulders appear out of earth," Cisco nodded at the screen where the man was running down the street after stealing money from a store. The trio watched in silence as the police car chased after him, only to come to a halt after slamming into a six-feet boulder that appeared in the middle of the road, ripping the road around its base.

Barry looked back at Caitlin whose eyes were devoid of all emotions, wide electric blue pupils shifting restlessly. He squeezed her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. Her eyes shifted to him, quiet, empty.

"What do you think?" Barry asked as he closed the distance between them she had maintained because of Cisco.

She jerked her chin upwards, "Ready when you are," she said boldly. Barry grinned, his other hand coming forward to hold her empty one.

Cisco breathed deeply. Despite her blunt coldness, both physical and mental, Barry was hard bent on keeping her with him, of keeping her a part of S.T.A.R Labs, of their once golden trio. For the life of him, Cisco could not figure out how will he be able to do that for several decades to come. Killer Frost was exactly what the name implied; cold, heartless murderer, devoid of all feelings of love and sympathy. Yes, she had gotten a certain control over her powers in the last two years and, yes, she had never hurt Barry even in the earlier months of her transformation when she was maddeningly absorbing the heat from people, leaving them frozen and taut, to satiate her own hunger for warmth and yes, over the last eighteen or so months of her resuming her position back in S.T.A.R Labs, fighting metahumans and criminals with the Flash, she had slipped only but a few times to the murderer she was, Cisco's belief in her resolve was tentatively shaky at the best. It was not becoming easier for him to work when she was in the Lab, his eyes constantly trying to keep a check on her, making sure she was nowhere near him and he had outright refused to have her in the lab if Barry's not with her. He hated showing such open repulsion to someone who was once his closest friend but he couldn't help himself. The genius bioengineer he knew Caitlin to be had disappeared somewhere inside this cold body, no longer passionate about science but spending the long hours either in the most solitary parts of the city or if Barry insisted, in the Lab, staring emptily at the walls.

If Cisco was to be honest with himself, for him, Dr. Caitlin Snow was dead. Gone. Killer Frost may have her face and body, but she will never be what Caitlin was to him; friend, partner, sister.

So if he could not understand how on earth could Barry still treat her the same, still love her and want to be with her, still insist on having her as a part of the team, he really felt like he was missing something in all of this.

"Cisco," Barry's voice brought him back from his thoughts, "Did you get the position on this guy?"

"Yeah, actually," Cisco leaned over the screen eagerly, his fingers tapping a few more keys and a map of the city appeared, "He was last seen in this area."

Barry frowned, "That's one of the shabbier areas of the city."

"I know," Cisco nodded, "I think our guy lives here. He was a mine worker after all. That couldn't pay much."

"Alright, we should go right -"

"Barry, wait," Cisco interrupted, casting a quick glance at Caitlin, "Can I talk to you for a sec? Alone?"

Barry's jaw flexed impatiently at the clear attempt of excluding Caitlin from the group. He opened his mouth to argue but felt a tug at his hand, realizing her hand was no longer in his.

"I will be outside if you need me," her quiet suggestion left Barry staring after her guiltily, his eyes following her retreating form right up to the moment it vanished into the cortex.

Cisco pursed his lips remorsefully, his eyes downcast, "Sorry about that," he muttered apologetically, "That was inappropriate."

"You _think_?" Barry pushed his hair back with his palm, looking clearly irritated.

"Listen, man, you can _not_ take her with you. Not this time," Cisco burst out, his voice both parts urgent and pleading. Barry frowned.

"What? Why not?"

Cisco gestured at the computer screen with a wave of his hand, "This man - I'm pretty sure he is not a hard core criminal. I mean - he stole some money from a store. With his powers, he could have robbed a bank. But he didn't," Cisco spread his palms in a shrugging motion, "Maybe he just needs help to understand the situation."

Barry nodded absentmindedly, paused, then shook his head, "But I don't understand. What does this has to do with Caitlin?"

Cisco stole a breath before saying what he knew would be the beginning of a heated argument, "It's just - she is still trying to control her . . . other instincts, you know, to _not_ kill and in this situation I don't trust her to understand the difference between criminals and -"

"Well, I do," Barry cut in sharply and started to pace in front of him, his features frustrated, " _Eighteen_ months - it's been eighteen months, Cisco, and you still don't trust her. What - why can't you see that she is the same person? Same Cai -"

"Because she's _not_ ," Cisco said loudly, impatiently, too tired of this facade, "She's not the same person, dude, she is _not_ the Caitlin we knew."

"Of course she is. Look, she's still learning to control -"

"She has already slipped a few times," Cisco insisted.

"I know," Barry shook his head impatiently, "But she is improving. She has already gotten so much better at -"

"Barry, why don't you admit that it's never gonna work?" Cisco gave up pretense, coming out harsh.

Barry's steps came to a halt, "What are you - of _course_ she -"

"She is a murderer," Cisco said bluntly, his voice thinning with grief, "She killed so many people . . . froze them to death, she - she -"

"She was scared, Cisco," Barry countered, sighing, his own voice low with the exhaustion of the same repetitive argument, "She needed to get warm and she didn't know what or how was she hurting people. And even after knowing that, she could not stop herself even if she tried. I know how she must have felt then, I've been -"

"She is _not Caitlin_ ," Cisco said loudly, throwing his arms in the air, "Okay? Caitlin is _dead_ , Barry, and the sooner you realize that this - this Killer Frost -"

In an instant Barry was there, few inches away, his finger raised threateningly, " _Don't_ call her that," he said quietly, his voice laced with fury.

Cisco stared back defiantly, his eyes full of sad defeat, "She is not Caitlin," he repeated once more, quietly.

Barry sighed as he took a step back, passing a tired hand over his face, "You just said she might not know the difference between criminals and innocents," he threw him a disappointed look, "When it's really you who is prejudiced."

"Barry, I -"

"I will talk to you later, Cisco," Barry said, turning around abruptly towards the exit, "Right now, we need to catch a meta human and you need to talk me through it."

Cisco watched in silence as another of his friends vanished down the cortex, feeling the cold chill of hopelessness slinking down his spine.

x-x-x

Barry met Caitlin near the high gates of S.T.A.R Labs, her pale body luminescent in dark against the black metal she was leaning on. He felt her glowing vacant eyes shifting to him as soon as he appeared outside in his red suit, her gaze devoid of all emotions, unsuspecting, unexpecting. He gave a faint smile as he flashed forward and came to a halt right in front of her.

"Cisco thinks this meta human might just be a person confused with his powers and we just need to help him," he told simply, knowing she would not ask, catching her hand in his and looking down at it, unable to meet her eyes.

He knew she knows. She had always been good at knowing him, reading him like a favorite book read over and over again, so much that she knows each line and dot. And he hated the fact that he could not say the same for himself, could not say that he knew Caitlin Snow like she knows him. And right now she knew he was lying. Or at least not telling the complete truth.

Eighteen months ago, he had thought that having her with him, once again a part of S.T.A.R Labs, a part of their missions, would be perfect, a continuation of the practice broken with her transformation. He could not have been more wrong.

For starters, she was having a hard time controlling her powers. It was a huge progress from her earlier days of transformation when she had escaped the facility, and when Ronnie, her husband, caught up with her, killed him in her uncontrollable, insatiable hunger for warmth, moving onwards to feeding off other humans' warmth. She had gone insanely rogue, going to any and all measures to get in contact with humans, making him putting everything aside and going on a search for her.

He had soon found her and came within inches of his death upon meeting her (a secret kept very well hidden from Cisco).

The sight of her; so pale, so cold, so inhumane, had reduced him to a stunned stop as he took in the truth through his eyes rather than just stories. He could not find a shred of Caitlin in her, not even a grey of her shadow. For the first time he had believed that this could very well be the person to kill her husband, had believed that maybe Caitlin Snow really was dead.

And then she saw him and he had noticed the slight hint of recognition in her bright blue eyes.

He had confronted her, then, accused her of killing Ronnie, of taking so many other anonymous lives. She had laughed, taunted him for his foolish sacrificing nature, told him that she needed all the warmth she could get but her narrowed glare made him only more certain of the evil that had now possessed the once warm heart of Caitlin Snow, clouding her needs with the hateful way she spoke.

They had fought that first time.

And she had almost killed him with the tip of an icy dagger. He barely made out alive, his body severely bruised and punctured.

Tending to his wounds alone, in an empty house, his heart ached with the loss of the person he had always held so close to his heart. He recalled the way she had always took care of his bruised and broken body, her soft fingers swift and gentle and firm, never flinching in her job. He recalled the way she would get angry with him for putting himself in danger. Or the way she would come running whenever he would enter the lab, her eyes wide with concern.

And that had reminded him of the way her eyes widened that day upon seeing him.

A reluctant hope dared to blossom in his heart.

Once the haze of the shock of seeing her so cold and distant had been replaced by that hope, he started remembering several things of their encounter that only fed to that optimistic assumption.

He acknowledged exactly how easy it would be to kill him if she had really wanted to kill him. He realized that she could have easily grown that last shard to a centimetre more and it would have pierced his heart. Or throw several hundred icy daggers at him from all directions and his speed would be useless. Or she could had just enclosed him in an ice grave.

But she hadn't.

He had suddenly realized that all that time she had been trying to drive him away, force him to leave. What he had been taking as an attempt to kill him was just her way to keep him safe.

The realization had made him sit up quickly, only to lie back down, wincing with pain from his rapidly healing wounds.

He had followed her the next day, closely but carefully. She seemed fairly in control of her powers as she went farther and farther away from the city, sometimes running, sometimes walking, and he had started wondering if she had any destination in mind.

And then it happened.

She had came to an abrupt stop, her head tilted sideways as a woman's screams reached them. For few seconds, everything went still, a long wail the only movement of air. Then she broke into a sprint.

He followed.

The sight that had met them after coming out on the other side of a hill left him horror struck. It was a car on fire and a woman standing near it, her face black with smoke and soot, crying loudly, hysterically.

Barry tensed in anticipation, observing from the opposite side of the road as Caitlin stepped towards the woman, her hands clawed. The ice around her fingertips started to grow, her pale skin shining in daylight. He gulped, leaning forward on his toes, preparing to whisk the woman away if Caitlin tried to hurt her.

"My son! He is in the car! Please help!" the woman was screaming, unable to register the freaky appearence of the girl in front of her in her panic.

Caitlin took another step towards the woman, a wild gleam in her eyes, a predatory shine of the blue irises. Barry was already planning on creating an air vaccum to extinguish the fire and save the kid when suddenly Caitlin tilted her head sideways, stared at the burning car for a second before she raised her hands and put them on the hood of the car. The woman screamed even louder and Barry was stunned back on the ball of his heels, unable to move.

In a matter of seconds the car was frozen, the fire extinguishing as Caitlin absorbed the heat blissfully. The woman's eyes widened in horror as she finally saw her for what she was. Barry stared, unable to feel the tug of a small unexpected smile at the corner of his mouth.

Caitlin sent an ice dagger through the windshield, breaking the glass to reveal the unconscious child slumped on the front seat. She looked at the woman expectantly, probably waiting for her to retrieve her child.

Instead, the woman shrieked in fear, "Get away from my son! Leave him alone! He has done nothing!"

Barry saw the rage that rippled across Caitlin's face in that moment, the blue of her eyes turning icy and almost white. She snarled in anger, making the woman cower and stumble back a few steps, before turning on her heels and walking away, her fists clenched.

And that was all the proof Barry had needed to know that his instinct was right.

The next time he had faced Caitlin, or as everyone has taken to call her Killer Frost, he stood there silently.

She had stared back just as quietly. He knew she could see that something had changed, see that on his face, in his stance and eyes. She had always been good at reading him. He used that knowledge to prove his point.

When he had extended his palm towards her, she had flinched minutely, shifting her own hands behind her.

"Do you want to die?" she had asked him coldly. She twirled her fingers and several icy daggers appeared out of the floor, surrounding him, poised and waiting for a single flick of her finger to pierce him.

"No," he had replied calmly, "I want to tell you something."

She smirked, "Oh really? And what would that be?"

"I'm sorry," he had whispered sincerely, his throat tight. His broken voice had made her tense, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"For what?" she hissed, her eyes restless as they kept jumping from his hand to his face and back again.

"Everything, Cait," the nickname widened her eyes in disbelief and she snorted, appearing to dismiss the fact, "For letting you go alone. For not being able to save you from HIVE. For all the . . . pain," his voice cracked, "For everything that made you feel like you can't come back."

She stared silently.

"To what?" she had asked at length, her eyes finally coming to a still on his face.

"To us."

She had laughed loudly, then, her humorless dry laughter trying to feed off his hope.

"The noble Barry Allen. Wanting me back on his team. Should I feel lucky?" she cocked her head sideways, taunting cheerlessly.

"Cait, you -"

"Don't you know what they are calling me these days?" she cut in harshly, the quiet and calmness of moments earlier dissipating, "Killer Frost," she waved a hand towards herself, the pale skin, blue eyes and all, "Sounds more appropriate, doesn't it?" One of the icicle jumped into her hand and she twirled it on her fingertips playfully.

"You are Caitlin," Barryy had said firmly, his voice low.

"Not anymore," she smiled, a cruel stretch of her pale lips, "Caitlin would never do . . . all of that. But she is dead, now."

"You are Caitlin. _Dr. Caitlin Snow._ "

"Repeating things only lose their meaning," she pointed out icily, turning away from him, "You might want to save your breath." The icicle dropped to the floor and shattered.

"Caitlin, please, it's not your fault," he followed her, palm still outstretch.

She chuckled, "Of course it's not," she twirled a strand of pale hair around her finger, turning around gracefully, "But I have to live with it," her smile vanished, "And to live, I have to do whatever I can."

"Taking heat from people?" he had asked, not accusing but curious.

"Yes," she looked down at his hand, "Just like I took Ronnie's."

Barry stepped forward, "Ronnie's death was an accident," he insisted, "You didn't know what you were doing."

"Doesn't bring him to life, the fact," she had shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, "As you reminded me so kindly yesterday."

"And I was wrong."

"No you weren't," she smiled pleasantly, "So what changed? What bring about this change of heart, Barry Allen?"

He took a deep breath, willing himself to not go without her, not again, "I saw you with that woman yesterday," he told calmly, " You didn't took her heat even though you wanted to."

She stared at him, her eyes hard to read but Barry sensed something changing in her, "It won't happen again," she shrugged, failing to appear careless.

"You don't want to hurt people, Cait," he had pleaded, "You know you don't."

"It's no longer a question of what I want," she jerked her chin upwards, "I _need_ the heat and I will take it. And I will keep doing it," she looked him in the eyes, "And you know that."

"Just -" he stretched his arm towards her, "Just hear me out."

She put up her palm, her smile now taunting, "You know, I just have to touch your hand," she waved her fingers close to his palm, "And as soon as you feel the cold touching your bones, you will be forgetting all about your rehabilitation plans."

Barry shook his head, putting up his palm to face hers, "Try me," he said boldly, inching his palm closer and she pulled hers back slightly.

"Do you have a death wish?" she spat angrily.

"No, but I do have a fast metabolism," he smiled slightly, "My cells regenerate at an accelerated rate. Any heat that you will take from me - it will be immediately taken care of."

She stared at him for a long moment, measuring his words, her eyes reluctant. At long last, she gritted her teeth and her palm covered the few inches between them, leaning against his gingerly. It was barely a touch - just finger tips and the base of the palm touching but that was enough.

The initial feeling was of a hard sting, a violent shiver through his arm accompanied by a bolt of pain. He had felt his palm going numb, the cold shocking at first, giving him a feeling of deja vu. It was the same pain he felt when Farooq Gibran fed on his energy, leaving him unable to run. He remembered realizing that he was not a limited resource, remembered pushing energy out of him and into Farooq, making him choke on it. He realized that's what he must do with Caitlin.

Before, however, he could test his hypothesis, she had pulled back, her eyes wider than usual.

"You will die," she whispered, "Just like Ronnie."

He realized the emotion in her usually blank eyes - it was fear. She was afraid of herself.

"I won't," he had whispered back, reassuring, gentle, "And I won't leave you alone either."

Slowly, he had placed his palm against hers again, more firmly this time.

And the second time he willed his body to provide heat, to let it flow between the contact.

It had worked.

He had noticed in the confused narrowing of her eyes that it had worked.

But that hadn't been the only convincing argument.

It took several hours worth of debate, several more days after that, until she had finally agreed to go back with him.

And that's when his second problem appeared. Cisco had thought him insane.

His frustration towards Barry increased even more when he refused to put her in the meta human prison after she slipped in her resolve and drained cold one of the meta humans they were tracking down. Or when she fell on a man in one of their fights against a particularly evil meta human and once coming in contact with his warmth, was unable to let go until Barry barreled into her, barely succeeding in saving the man.

It didn't help either that she insisted on leaving the city every time she slipped as furiously as Cisco insisted on not having her as a part of their group.

But he wouldn't - _couldn't_ leave her. She was Caitlin. She was the person who had held him together when he was close to falling apart. She was the person who had asked him to stay until she fall asleep. She was the person who had hugged him because she knew he needed one. She was the person shouting his name over transmitter until he replied to tell that he was okay.

She was Dr. Caitlin Snow - his personal physician.

His partner. His friend.

And now that he had her back, nothing could make him lose her. Not even Cisco's warnings.

"Is that all he said?" she asked, a hint of sarcasm in her tone, her fingers entwined in his. It had taken an year's worth of frustrating determination but she had finally been able to refrain herself from feeding off his heat. The lust of warmth was still there, raging, burning up in her veins, but contained stubbornly just below the skin. For that one feat, she was extremely proud of herself.

He ignored the hint, "Yeah," he shrugged.

She shook her head slightly, a rare smile briefly appearing on her face before vanishing quickly, "So what's the plan?"

"I will flash you close enough to him and then could build one of your ice cages around him."

The pause stretched as she waited for him to continue.

" _Then_ what?" she asked finally, an impatient edge to her voice.

"Then we talk," Barry said lamely, "Try to know why is he doing what he's doing."

She raised her eyebrows skeptically, eyes narrowed, "And _that's_ gonna work?"

Barry gave a sheepish smile, "Only one way to know."

He stepped forward and picked her up. Her eyes shone with a steely determination as she placed her arms around him. She knew she could always ice-slide her way to there, but this way was always the fastest.

x-x-x

" _You are here - that's the place,_ " Cisco's voice on the transmitter brought them to a halt.

"Can you see our guy?" Barry asked softly, knowing Cisco has all the nearby CCTV hacked.

" _No - not yet. He must be in the building_."

Caitlin let go of Barry and landed nimbly on her feet, her restless eyes quickly taking in the surroundings.

"Are you sure he hasn't left the building?"

" _Yes, yes - or one of the cameras would have seen him."_

They stood still for a full minute, looking all around them. At this time of night, the place was eerily quiet.

"Do we go in then?" Caitlin's whisper in her transmitter made Cisco flinch once more.

"That looks like the only option," Barry whispered back.

" _There will be other people in the building_ ," Cisco warned and Barry knew who he was actually warning against, " _You need to stay clear of them. Make sure no one gets hurt._ "

Barry glanced at Caitlin who was staring up at the apartment, her eyes moving from window to window. He silently cursed Cisco for being so stubborn in not trusting her.

"Don't worry, we'll be careful," he murmured.

" _Barry . . . you know what -_ "

" _Yes_ , Cisco, we'll make sure he doesn't hurt anyone," Barry cut in angrily, insisting on Cisco to get the hint.

Caitlin threw an amused look over at Barry, her lips quirking up one side in a knowing smirk, before walking towards the building. Barry quickly ran ahead, in the building and up the stairs, making sure no one was in their way. Fortunately, due to the lateness of the hour, no one was. He stood outside the apartment door, waiting for Caitlin to join him.

As soon as she stepped beside him, she froze the door knob and smashed it into powdery ice. The two shared a silent look before Barry pushed the door open and stepped in.

The apartment was an utter mess, dust and gravel on everything. All the stuff was strewn around the apartment like sprinkled salt. The TV was smashed in, the table lying on its side, the cushions lying near the window. Barry took in the whole scene in barely two seconds.

"Hello? Is any-"

His loud call was interrupted by an icy hand grabbing his arm. He looked around to see Caitlin glaring at him, her other hand pointing at one of the rooms. He cursed his stupidity of announcing his presence when Caitlin could feel the person by his heat only.

"Sorry," he murmured sheepishly.

The next moment they heard a window being smashed, the shattering voice coming from the same room Caitlin had been pointing at earlier. Caitlin hissed angrily as Barry ran ahead, barreling the door open and coming to a halt inside the room.

Caitlin ran in behind him to find the room empty with glass shards around the window ledge.

" _He's outside guys!_ " Cisco shouted in the transmitter.

Barry ran to the window and flashed down the length of the building. Caitlin followed him, sliding down an icy arc stretching between the window and the road below.

"There!" Barry pointed in the direction of the man running downhill. The meta looked over his shoulder at the two of them and kept running.

With an impatient sound, Barry ran after him, a streak of light and speed. In a blinking second, before Caitlin could register the change of positions, the man was turning around, his hands raised. Breathlessly, her mouth opened to shout out warning even as she saw a boulder rising out of the road and heard the loud crunch of Barry smashing into it.

Caitlin's eyes widened at the sight of the boulder smashing on the contact, several of the larger pieced hitting a curled up, moaning Barry hard on his head and torso. He screamed in pain, his leg twisted at an awkward angle, blood flowing out of his mask down from his forehead.

" _BARRY_!" The synchronized screams of Caitlin and Cisco echoed in the empty night. People started pulling up their windows to peer out on the road, curious to know the source of noise.

Caitlin felt her hold on her fury and powers slipping as she ran forward, creating an icy sheen under her feet and slipping fast towards the meta human, her hands raised. Several icy daggers shot out of her fingers, cutting the wind and before the man knew, pinning him to the ground, piercing his arms and legs. The man screamed in agony.

Caitlin's eyes went white as she stalked forward and past Barry, her hands curled into claws, a cruel smile playing on her lips, "Did you think it would be that easy?" she growled, her tone dripping with menacing anger, "That you would just escape like that?" she put her arm in front of her, her fingers clenching into a fist. The ice daggers went further in the man's flesh and he writhed in agony.

"Who - _what_ are you?" the man screamed in fear.

" _Barry? Barry, she's losing it,_ " Cisco's trembling voice in her ear meant nothing. She was possessed with a blinding fury, claimed by an intense hatred for the man who was emanating so much heat.

"Caitlin!" Barry's broken voice passed the barrier of her lust. She ignored it.

Instead, she imagined putting her hand on the meta's arm, letting the heat flow out of his body and into hers. She imagined him crying out in pain as he felt his body growing numb. She imagined the color of his face turning to blue as the blood froze in his veins.

"Caitlin! _Please_!" Barry's pleading voice disturbed her concentration. He sounded to be in pain. She should stop the pain. But she must kill this man, too. She shook her head slightly.

" _Caitlin, you need to bring Barry to the lab!"_ Cisco tried desperately, " _He's losing a lot of his blood. Fast._ "

The words registered slowly, cracking the shell of cold fury. It was harder to ignore this time. But she did it. She ignored the warning. She reached the man, hand outstretched, seeing the fear in his eyes and taking pleasure in it. She bent low into a canine prowl, a feral look to her face as her hand came down on the man's sleeve.

"Cait, no," Barry gasped, "You are better . . . than . . . this," his vision slipped in and out, tunneling into darkness.

The pain of Barry's voice broke through the last of her mental defenses, snapping her out of her anger. She stood up abruptly, her fists trembling as the ice daggers in the man's limbs melted away, leaving him a moaning mess. She turned around, staring at Barry, the white irises regaining their blue. Barry has blacked out, lying limp against the road, blood slowly pooling around him.

" _You need to bring Barry back, Caitlin,_ " Cisco insisted once more, unable to know whether she had stopped or not.

She looked back at the metahuman, still moaning on the pavement, his arms and legs bleeding. Distantly, she felt horrified at what she had done to him, the loathing disgust now directed at herself. But more importantly, she had to choose. Choose between capturing the meta or saving Barry.

There was no choice to make.

"I'm coming back with Barry. We have to let the metahuman go for now," she said quietly in her transmitter, listening to the breath of relief Cisco exhaled.

x-x-x

 _A/N: Okay, okay, before you all tell me how ridiculous this is, hear me out._

 _There were several Killer Frost in comics but Caitlin Snow was the mildest one. She did save that boy's life in the comics, though not in quite that way. It was another meta who put the car on fire so she came over her instinct to kill the mother and killed the meta instead (check the wiki page for killer frost). I just removed the meta to shorten the story. So that was some good she did, right? I have just this feeling that if any Killer Frost can be good, Caitlin would be the one. So I made this story. I mean, she's not all good. I tried to preserve her evil side as much as I can without actually turning her evil. But we'll see where the story will go from here. I'm not counting on many chapter fic. I think the next one will be the last. So...tell me what you think?_

 _(Also, this is a totally lame name for this fic. I'm up for any good suggestions. I hate this name. Just give me anything to change it to.)_


	2. Chapter 2

Sliding all the way, and as fast as she can without inflicting anymore injury, she was finally able to take Barry back to the S.T.A.R Labs, her cold hands red with frozen blood from Barry's wounds. Cisco came out to meet them and despite his repulsion to her, he pulled Barry's other arm around him and they both lifted his legs, carrying him to the bed. As soon as they placed Barry on the table, Cisco moved to stand on the opposite side of the table.

"Broken leg and shoulder," he muttered as he examined Barry, "Also a head wound. His speed played against him today."

"We need to set his bones right before they heal themselves," Caitlin murmured, her cold fingers moving over his leg, tracing his shoulder. The dried red of her hands was providing a stark contrast with the paleness of her skin, merging easily with the crimson of Flash's suit.

"Wait, _you_ are gonna treat him?" Cisco asked, his eyes wide with shock. She glared at him.

"Before I became a supervillain, I was a doctor," she said sarcastically, "Now hand me those bandages."

Grimacing, Cisco brought the bandages and instead of putting them on her outstretched hand, he placed them on the bed. Caitlin snatched them up, ignoring the avoidance, and placed a folded up gauze on his head wound.

"Place your hand here," she ordered absently. Cisco bit his lower lip nervously as he waited for her to remove her hand before placing his own. Again, Caitlin ignored and set about to work at Barry's shoulder.

"His head wound need stitches," she commented after spending a long stretch of silence on putting his bones straight, "Bring me thread and needle. And some gauze and water."

Cisco ran over to the sink and brought her a bowl of water which he also, instead of giving straight to her, placed on the small table beside the bed. She let out an impatient hiss but said nothing. When he did that the fourth time, putting a threaded needle on the table instead of her waiting hand, she glared up at him, her irises a lighter blue with anger.

"Do that _once_ more and I will put an icicle through your neck," she threatened.

The warning took Cisco by surprise. Up until now, she had always ignored his repulsion to her, never thinking much of it. But this time she seemed to get worked up pretty badly for it. Maybe it was the moment: the fact that Barry was lying injured that seemed to make her impatient. Or maybe she really _did_ approach the limit of her already short patience. For whatever reason, her imminent threat brought to his mind another - a very distant - memory.

 _I know how to perform a lobotomy._

And something about this nettled and angry threat of Killer Frost was so much like the Caitlin he knew that he actually started wondering if Barry had been right all along.

"Scissor." she called again, hand outstretched. Gulping, Cisco placed the scissor on her palm, her elongated fingers touching the tip of his. He winced slightly.

"Oh get over yourself, Cisco," she scolded annoyingly as she bent over Barry to cut the thread, "Do you _really_ think you can stop me from killing you by standing a few feet away?"

Cisco gulped, "Just . . . you know, trying to lower the appeal. Make it easier for you," he gave a really lame excuse.

"I don't know about easier but it's definitely getting annoying," she huffed in irritation, putting bandage around Barry's head, "We need to put an IV in him. He has lost too much blood."

As she put on the gloves and hung the IV fluid bag on the stand beside the bed, Cisco stared at her, "I didn't know . . . that there was something remaining . . . of Caitlin . . . in you."

She started to say something but Barry started moving then, low moans coming out of his mouth.

"Oh -" he groaned, his hand raised to his other shoulder, "Why does - what happened - why does everything hurts so much?" His hand was tilted away so that he was only able to see Cisco.

"You crashed into a boulder running at that speed," Cisco provided, "You broke your shoulder and leg. And your forehead has a deep cut."

"You have lost a lot of blood," Caitlin murmured as she disinfect the IV site and inserted the catheter in his arm, "So I'm hooking you to an IV."

Barry's eyes widened slightly as he turned his head around to look at her, surprised at the sight of her sterile gloves, "Lucky me," he murmured drowsily, a lazy smile appearing on his face, "I'm being treated by Dr. Caitlin Snow again."

She didn't crack a smile. If anything, her features turned even harder.

"Cisco, cut me a bit of tape," she ordered busily. Cisco quickly abided the command.

Barry raised his eyebrows, unable to stay a quiet observer, "You two seem to be very friendly," he noticed, "How long was I out? Ten - twenty years?"

Cisco started to grin but stopped at the look on Caitlin's face. She looked ready to murder - which, knowing her - she will not hesitate to do if provoked.

"Ahem -" Cisco cleared his throat, scratching his head awkwardly, "I think you should rest for now, let your wounds heal."

"Sleep if you can," Caitlin added curtly.

Barry stared at her face, his eyes narrowing anxiously. She seemed thoroughly distressed about something, her eyes downcast, her face paler than usual. He glanced inquiringly at Cisco but he was eyeing Caitlin just as nervously, uncertainties flickering in his eyes. Barry felt his mouth went dry as he remembered the incident from few minutes ago.

Putting his arm back on the bed, she turned to go. Barry swiftly caught hold of her cold wrist - effectively making her lurch in her stride.

"Caitlin," Barry said quietly, "What happened with the meta? Is he -?" he left the question hanging, afraid to finish it.

" _Alive_?" Caitlin hissed sharply, "Fortunately enough, yes."

"You stopped," Barry confirmed, his voice holding all the awe for her feat, "You stopped yourself." The thought lifted his spirits considerably, a lightness filling him at yet another display of Caitlin's potential to be herself.

Caitlin stared at his wide hopeful eyes for a long moment before looking away, a slip of her face revealing an immeasurable sadness before she carefully blanked her face again, "Yes," she murmured, not meeting Barry's eyes, her tone stiff, "I stopped."

She snatched her hand out of his grip and walked away, her steps hurried.

Barry stared after her receding form, frowning in bewilderment. Something else - something entirely different was going wrong with her. The fear of loosing her took control of his mind once again.

Suddenly feeling hollow, he looked at Cisco, an unknown fear shimmering in his eyes, "Don't let her go," he almost pleaded.

Cisco took a deep breath, knowing what it must take for Barry to ask him to do one thing he definitely didn't want to, and raised his eyebrows, "Dude, she's the one with the superpowers this time. And she has already threatened to stab me once," Barry chuckled drily and Cisco smiled, nodding, unable to refuse him, "But I'll try my best," he patted his hand, "Just pray that I survive the effort. And you - get some sleep."

With that, he walked away, following in Caitlin's footsteps. Barry's eyes followed him until he disappeared down the curve of the cortex, then sighing heavily, he closed his eyes, and immediately fell asleep.

x-x-x

Cisco found Killer Frost in one place he thought she would never go; in front of particle accelerator. His expressions softened as he recalled their conversation, oh a millenia ago, when Ronnie first appeared after his supposed demise. He recalled the Caitlin of that time; soft, vulnerable, warm, susceptible to grief and loss - human in every aspect. The straight-backed woman, sitting still as an ice sculpture, hands fisted with instinctive rage and staring hard at the particle accelerator's circular entrance hardly resembled the Caitlin Snow who sat here before her. He could feel the cool steam coming off her body even as he stayed strictly on the opposite end of the tunnel, leaning against the wall.

"What do _you_ want?" she asked suddenly, a low growl in the back of her throat, catching him by surprise.

Blushing with embarrassment, knowing all the while that the heat due to this blush was only bringing him deeper into the danger, he shook his head quickly, "Nothing. I don't want anything."

She turned her head around to look at him and in his nostalgic state, he was slightly taken aback to see the electric blue, wide stretched, wild irises instead of warm brown ones. He soon regained his mental footing and looked back to register the hint of irritation on her face.

"Barry sent me to make sure you stay," he blurted out, unable to come up with any other excuse.

"And what made you think you will be able to stop me if I wanted to go?" her tone was both taunting and challenging.

Cisco shrugged, "Yeah, that's what I told him, too," he pushed his hair behind his ear, "That you will kill me if I tried to come in your way."

Caitlin chuckled; a dried, humorless sound making Cisco realize yet again how much this person was not Caitlin, and looked down at her frozen hands, the dried blood still there.

"I will leave," she said quietly, a low murmur Cisco was not too sure was for his ears, "Eventually."

"Hey, I'm totally on your side in that," Cisco added, giving a hesitant smile, "I always wanted you to leave."

She looked up at him, her eyebrow quirked skeptically, "Yeah, I'm aware of the fact," almost absentmindedly, she drew a long icicle out of her palm, twirling it between her fingers, "I also know why you don't want me on the team," she smiled wryly.

Cisco gulped, his eyes glued on the sharp icicle, "Did Barry tell you?" he asked in a panicked voice, "I'm sure you -"

"Barry told me nothing," she pulled out another dagger, now juggling the two icicles without even looking, "But that doesn't mean I can't feel your mistrust in my ability to control myself."

Cisco has turned pale by then, unable to look anywhere but at the long daggers, his mouth gone dry. He wasn't sure if she was teasing him intentionally or did playing with daggers was just a pass-time for Killer Frost. But he was sure that he didn't want to know either way.

"Look, can you just -" he pointed a trembling hand towards the icicles. Caitlin followed the direction of his gaze, stared at the icicles for a moment before looking at him with a cruel amusement.

"What, these?" she asked vaguely, "You think I'm gonna stab you with these or something?" she laughed, "But why would I waste a perfectly warm body when I can kill you just by touching you. At least, that way, _one_ of us gains something."

"Okay, look," Cisco stopped her in a trembling voice, "If you want me to be scared of you, you win. I'm _terrified_ of you. Just . . . just stop doing that."

Caitlin rolled her icy blue eyes even as the daggers slipped back into her skin (making Cisco gag), "I don't want you to be anything, Cisco," she said flatly, "I can't care less for what you feel for me. I'm here for one person only and if I left, that would be for him, too."

A long stretch of silence followed the confession where Caitlin stared at the adjacent wall and Cisco stared at the floor. None of them knew what to say to another.

"There's something I have always wanted to ask," Cisco finally broke the silence and Caitlin looked up at him blankly, "How much - how much of Caitlin is there in you?"

"What does _that_ suppose to mean?" she asked, frowning in confusion.

Cisco shrugged as he stepped forward and sat down just inside the corridor, still a good distance away from her, "I mean, like few minutes ago, you were treating Barry. You were in your," he put inverted commas in the air, " _'Doctor Mode_ '. That's totally Caitlin's thing. But other times - like ninety nine percent of the time - you are just this cold, icy person, trying not to kill just about everybody."

She must have found that description of herself very amusing because next moment she laughed out loudly, her strangely resonating voice echoing in the narrow passage. Cisco wasn't sure if she was laughing sarcastically or if she really found it funny so he refrained himself from smiling back.

"I really don't know how to answer that question," she said, shaking her head slightly as the laughter subsided, "But you're a mechanical engineer, right?"

Cisco nodded silently, unable to find relevance of his question to that of hers.

"Have you ever come across a machine that is burnt beyond recognition? Insides all fried? Wires all melted?"

The question struck home and Cisco gulped, realizing the course of conversation, "A couple of times, yeah," he said in a hoarse whisper. Immediately his mind started playing all the conversations with Ronnie and Barry about how she was left to die in a thermodynamic engine by H.I.V.E Agents, how, in her panic, she had ripped off the cooling system that froze her body to the core, merging her cells with ice, changing her entire DNA. Countless times since then, he had tried to imagine the degree of fear Caitlin, his friend Caitlin who would never inflict damage to anyone intentionally, whose world was books and computers and S.T.A.R Labs and who was fairly inapt at self defense, must have felt at the realization that she was alone in a place full of people all hell bent on killing her.

"And have you ever been able to salvage something of the real machine from that burnt metallic corpse?"

Cisco felt a lump forming in his throat, realizing who actually was the burnt metallic corpse, "I - yeah, there's always something of the machinery that's not completely destroyed." He recalled the fisted hands as she lied motionless in S.T.A.R Labs, unconscious to the world but still able to feel the excruciating pain that was changing her body. He recalled reading the monitors registering a higher and higher heart beat rate as her pain intensified over time.

She spread out her pale palms, "There you go, then. That's the answer to your question."

Cisco swallowed the lump painfully before asking, "Yeah, but how much of the real machine is left in this case?"

"That's something I want to know just as much as you."

"Well, what do _you_ think it is?" he insisted.

She stood up, flipping her hair back carelessly, "What I think doesn't matter. The only think that matters is how much the other person thinks there is to salvage. Some give up sooner," she glanced at him, "Some are more stubborn."

Cisco thought of Barry; optimistic, determined Barry, not ready to give up on her for the world. In a matter of seconds he realized how much they have come forward from the starting point, even if he had been stubborn not to acknowledge the progress. For starters, Killer Frost has grown a consience. She has started hesitating in killing evil meta humans, and has completely stopped killing innocents - intentionally, at least. And then, today, there were some glimpses of actual Caitlin Snow - undoubtedly of a more ferocious one - but they hinted at enough for him to know that something of real Caitlin stayed in Killer Frost. Begrudgingly, though, but he has to admit that Caitlin Snow's fierce protective side has twisted to become Killer Frost's positive one, however vague, and it was better than nothing.

"You know," he shifted his weight slightly to one side as he began, "Now that you have remembered being a doctor, we are actually in need of one around here."

Caitlin raised her eyebrows skeptically, "Oh really?" she asked sarcastically and flicked her finger. An icy dagger shot out of her palm, passing within an inch of Cisco's ear, and dug deep into the wall behind. Cisco clenched his eyes close instinctively, wincing loudly.

"How about now?" she asked casually.

"Back, back, I take it back. Forget all about it. Just leave whenever you want to. I'll even help you pack," Cisco improvised hastily.

Caitlin laughed; a cold, inhuman laugh. Despite himself, Cisco gave a watery smile too. It will take some getting used to, and he was not too sure about the possibility either, but maybe some day he'll actually begin to like Killer Frost's crazy/evil sense of humor.

"Don't worry," she waved a careless hand, "I might be leaving sooner than you think."

He opened his mouth to say something, unsure of the words, but she continued, "I'm just waiting for Barry to wake up."

Cisco sighed heavily, strangely not happy with the prospect. This small conversation, with all her cold harshness and unexpectedly dangerous sense of humor, had left an impact on him, making him realize the extent of pain she had endured to get so twisted. It was an unwelcome feeling, considering the cold dagger still melting behind him, and it left Cisco speechless.

x-x-x

When Barry finally sat up from his several hour long sleep, it was around 5 a.m in the morning. The lab was completely silent, not a sliver of sound could be heard. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and rolling his shoulder to realize that all his injuries were healed. He carefully pulled the IV out and then started to remove the bandage from his head.

"That was a deep wound," the sudden sound made him jump violently, "You might want to keep it on for few more hours."

Barry turned around to see Caitlin sitting in one of the chairs in front of the computer table, her perpetually blank expression still in place. He smiled, feeling suddenly better. She had stayed.

"Hey," he greeted, "How about _you_ check if it's safe enough to remove the bandage?" he said with a lopsided smile.

She raised her eyebrows slightly, a hint of a smile appearing before it disappeared. He wanted her to be his doctor again and she was not sure if doing so will hurt him later.

"I think you are qualified enough to do that," she said brusquely.

Barry shrugged, undaunted by her dismissal, "Well, if my doctor thinks so," he started taking off the bandage, looking around the lab, "Where is Cisco? It's really quiet."

Her eyes were fixed on his hands removing the bandage clumsily, itching to help but knowing that she should not start something that will not last. Not now.

"Home. It was getting late."

Barry breathed deeply; a sleepy sigh originating from lingering drowsiness, his hands having almost removed the bandage, "How long did I sleep?"

Her eyes dropped from his forehead to his eyes, then back up again, "Six hours more or less."

He pulled the bandage with a last tug, his fingers probing the wound, "How does it look?" he asked and as if in reply to his own question, winced loudly as his fingers touched a soft spot.

"I told you the wound is deep," she said irritatingly, getting up and going over to him quickly. She pried his fingers away from the wound and examined closely. The wound was healing, there was no bleeding, but it needed some time. Her cold fingers, now clean with no blood and ever so careful with her newly gained strength, softly pressed the wound and immediately stopped when he winced.

"Sorry," she started to pull away but Barry stopped her hand midway and pulled it forward, placing the fingers back on his wound.

"Do you mind?" he asked with a pleading smile; a sideways sheepish tilt of his lips, "The cold is soothing."

Looking at him; those green eyes and the pools of affection in them, it always felt like a mental jolt to realize that it was there for her. Such warmth for such cold. This pure smile, imploring eyes - the face of a person who didn't fear her or more importantly, was not repulsed by her. By the sight of her. By this body devoid of all human warmth, eyes empty of any emotion signature of the capability to feel, heart a frozen twisted mass unable to return his affections. By this person who only few hours ago had gone wild in her fury and was about to freeze someone to death. Even being hit by lightening and becoming a scientific mystery could not gain him the ability to love the frozen corpse she had become, like a person buried alive. She remembered Cisco's question; _how much of Caitlin is in there?_ And for once she longed so dearly to know the answer to that, to make herself believe that she deserved his affections based upon the undoubted presence of the vestiges of her old self - of Caitlin, no matter how little. If only she could know that there was something - a shadow, a hint - of Caitlin in Killer Frost, know for sure, then at least she would have a reason to stay, to give him something of his. But without any such knowledge and with her latest slip up and new found revelation, she could not stay.

"Alright," she mumbled in her resonating voice, allowing him to keep her fingers on his wound. Finally some use of her abilities.

"What is bothering you?" Barry asked after a long moment of silence, his face tilted upwards at her, a soft smile on his lips.

"Why would I be bothered by anything?" she shot back stiffly, flustered at being jarred out of her thoughts.

Barry chuckled, "You tell me," he said as he reached up and gently tapped her bottom lip in the grip of her teeth, "You are biting your lower lip again."

She stared at him, eyes wide in shock. Was she really? Was she actually reflecting a nervous habit of the dead girl inside her? Did she show other such traits of that girl, too, without any intention or conscious thought? The thought sent a shiver of possibility down her spine.

"I was thinking about what happened, you know, with Frank Miller today - tonight," she lied halfheartedly.

He frowned, "What happened was that you were able to stop yourself and you saved my life."

"I almost killed him," she said flatly, tired of all the fake optimism, "And left you to die."

"But you didn't," Barry shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant "And that's what matters."

"I'm not able to control myself -"

"You're controlling your powers just fine," Barry interjected calmly, "Accidents like today can happen but otherwise you're doing great." It was a conversation similar to her every post-slip up frustration.

"Accidents like today _can't_ happen. Or someone will get killed."

"No one will get killed," Barry shook his head slowly, "You'll know when to stop just like you stopped today."

"No!" her anger flared up again, her skin getting colder, her eyes getting lighter. She snatched her hand away from his wound, making him wince, "Cisco was right about not trusting me. We can _not_ have a recap of what happened with that other meta I actually killed."

"It happened so long ago," Barry said, standing up, "When you were still trying to control your powers."

"But I almost killed that other person, too, when -"

"That, too, was not what we prepared for. Another accident. And you were not as good back then to -"

"And today I _tortured_ Miller," she cut in impatiently, stepping back few feet, her hands fisting in desperation, "Because I was not able to control my anger. It all kept slipping, Barry, it'll never work."

"But you _did_ control it, Cait," Barry started to close the distance between them, hands outstretched, "You were able to stop and -"

"No! You don't _understand_!" her sudden loud shout of anger stopped Barry in his tracks. His optimism was rubbing her in all the wrong ways, making her more and more desperate to make him see her faults, see her for what she was. Barry frowned, feeling something darkly different about this time.

As a last sorry resort, an ice dagger shot out of Killer Frost's finger and hovered there - an inch away from Barry's face, quivering and floating eerily like a moment frozen in time.

Barry stared at the tip, something twisting his stomach in knots, knowing deep down that this time it was different - this time she was more determined - or was _desperate_ the word? He dragged his eyes away from the immediate threat to look at her, his eyes a silent source of plea.

"You don't have to do this," he said quietly after a long still moment.

"If that will make you see me for what I am, then yes, I have to," she growled back, her body all tensed muscles and pent up energy, "Because that's something you are refusing to see."

"And what's that?" Barry asked evenly, his eyes fixed on her despite the dagger quivering few inches away from him.

"That I'm no longer a who," she spat angrily, "I'm a _what_ ," another dagger slowly slipped out of her palm, "That was the first thing Miller said when he saw me. He asked me what I am. Not who I am, but _what_ ," she closed her eyes briefly, then opened to reveal pale blue irises, no longer dilated with anger, "Someone like me -" she looked down at her cold body and looked up sharply at the wall behind Barry, making the spare dagger whisk past his head and smash the glass panel into pieces, "- who is barely alive, can't be a human."

Barry bit his lower lip, thinking he finally realized the source of her sudden anger, "So you decided to believe someone trying to kill us both on sight than me?" he asked, a harsh note entering his tone, "You decided to let a stranger be the judge of your identity but you refused to believe someone who have known you for so _many_ years?" he closed his fingers around the dagger, vibrating his hand and shattering the ice to the floor. Killer Frost stood there, still as an ice sculpture, her quiet eyes following the falling icy crystals. She didn't try to stop him as he stepped closer.

"For more than an year now, I've been telling you that nothing has changed for you, that you can still be the same person, and all I got was you trying to leave everytime you fail to stop yourself," Barry reached her, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anguish and disbelief, "And some stranger - who don't even know your _name_ \- tells you something and you are ready to believe it?"

"Maybe because he wasn't biased," she said quietly, her eyes boring into his, "Maybe because he told me what he saw and not what he _wanted_ to see."

Barry exhaled loudly, his both hands going up and rubbing the side of his head as he turned around and took a few steps away from her in an agitated state of mind. This small gesture, the rubbing of his head with his palms, the signature move of his whenever he was anxious or tensed, didn't go unnoticed by her. Some small part of hers wondered at her ability to still be able to recall those hints of his moods even after all those months of cold hatred and pain.

"And you have no idea how right Miller is," she continued in the same scathing tone, "Every second that I exist, all I want is to take more and more of the heat of each and every person. Every minute that I spend without absorbing heat - without _killing_ someone - is using too much of my strength. I told you before, I'm telling you again," she clenched her fists desperately, "I _need_ to get warm."

Barry shook his head slightly, unable to fathom, "But you - you are doing it so well. The last time you actually took a life was an year ago! I thought you were getting better," he spread out his palms helplessly, "And we are always making sure that you get enough heat to control your -"

"You don't _get_ it," she growled suddenly through gritted teeth, "I need to stay warm. _All the time."_

"Or so you think," Barry said quickly, trying to grab a direction for the conversation, "You have shown control over your powers, Cait, you have shown how to stop yourself. You have done it. Again and again. For so many months. Why do you think you need to stay warm so much now? I don't understand."

He reached forward to take her hand. She hissed, stepping back, her eyes widening with cold fury. Gesturing with her fingers, her expression turned into a dead blankness as several icy shards appeared out of nowhere all around Barry. Barry frowned in confusion. He could not understand - nothing seemed to be working today.

"You think," she hissed, "You think that because you have known me for so long, that because Caitlin thought of you as an important part of her life, I won't kill you?" Barry stared, his mouth slightly open. In all the months together, he had never seen her behave so erratically - so desperate to leave that no amount of reasoning seemed to change her mind. He could not get hold of whatever had made her think that leaving was the only option, making her throw one obscure reason after another as an excuse to prove how evil she truly was so she could just get away from this place.

"But you are forgetting something, Barry Allen," her voice has gone down to a whisper, "Ronnie Raymond was also a big part of Caitlin's life - he was her _husband_. She had loved him, even more so after he came back from his supposed death," the icy daggers started shivering in the air as her eyes got lighter again, "And I _killed_ him," she stepped forward, her hands trembling, "What made you think I won't kill _you_ someday?"

Despite his bewilderment, a small smile - so out of place and moment - broke through the grim set of Barry's lips. It surprised her out of her determined anger.

"I know all about Caitlin's love for Ronnie," his voice was soft, gentle, for once playing along with her desire to separate herself from her past, "I know how much she loved him, how much she grieved his death and how much it made her happy when he came back from death. And I know that you killed him becuase of the heat he possessed," his smile grew slightly, finally finding a solid footing with her, "And I don't think that you won't kill me - or that you _can't_ kill me," in a flash of speed and a gust of air, he collected all the icy daggers surrounding him and cluttered them in a messy heap around her feet, stopping only few inches away from her startled eyes and windblown hair, "I just want to know why haven't you yet?"

He watched carefully as all pretense slipped out of her face, leaving her eyes surprised, her mouth open, unable to provide him with an answer or even gather her previous desperate anger.

"You had so many opportunities to kill me, Cait, even when we were not a team," his eyes flickered from one blue iris to another, "The first time I met you after your transformation - you tried so hard to make me think that you want to kill me. But all you were trying to do was drive me away," he knew he was treading on thin ice (and the metaphor echoes with all its irony in his mind), that any moment a wrong word, a slip of movement will anger her enough to forget about the consequences, "Just like you are doing right now," he concluded in a whisper, "So tell me what happened, Cait, because I have no _damn_ idea why you want to leave now so badly."

The slight rise and fall of her pristine skin at the throat didn't go unnotice by him. She wanted to tell him but was hesitating. Barry decided to give her all the time she needed.

"How much -" she began and something twisted in Barry's stomach at the hoarseness of her voice as she stopped and cleared her throat, "How much of . . . Caitlin -" she said the name hesitantly, almost throwing it out defensively, "- you think is remaining in me?"

Barry frowned, "You know what I think about that. You don't need to ask, because I've -"

" _Just_. . . tell me, please," she cut in harshly before regaining her low tone, her command ending as a plea.

Barry placed his hands on her elbows, "You are Caitlin and you will always be Caitlin. You have her memories, her body, her past and future and present. Just because you went through a transformation doesn't mean you are someone else. You are just as much of Caitlin after everything that happened to you as I'm Barry after the lightening hit me."

His soft voice, gentle tone, wide, desperate eyes and the reassuring pressure on her arms - it all made it so much more difficult for her to regain her instinctive cold harshness. She tried, with repititive failure, to shrink back to the hard knot of her heart, to stop herself from responding to his emotional and physical warmth, but each time her thirst for a single soul to see her for her won, leaving her open and vulnerable and throbbing with the pain of past memories, the agony the present was putting her through and the fear for unpredictable future.

"Once before," she murmured quietly, "When I thought I lost Ronnie for good, I thought I would never be able to let another person near me," she slowly twisted her arms out of his soft grip, slipping her hands down his arms and holding his wrists in her hands, "But then he came back and I felt alive again," she slipped her fingers a little lower to hold his hands, palms up, her thumb stroking the insides softly, cool against his skin, "But this time it's me who killed him," she let out a dried half sob, startling Barry, "And I did a thorough job of it. He is not coming back this time," she looked up at him, "And ever since I've killed him, ever since I became . . . this," she glanced down at herself, "I have been thinking the same. That it's impossible for me to ever let someone in again," she took a deep breath, the cold of the air warm against her icy body, "And yesterday I was proved wrong."

"You let someone in?" Barry asked softly, his tone varying shades of pain and hope.

She smiled slightly as she looked up again, not a smirk but a genuine smile, and Barry realized that her smile was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"I didn't," she shrugged, "He broke in."

"How did he manage to do that?" Barry asked, tilting his head sideways, feigning innocence as his fingers crossed against hers. His heart seemed to be beating at twice his normal rate, a warm feeling spreading all through his body, down to his fingertips.

"He didn't really try, it was an accident," she drawled teasingly before her expression turned hard again, "But most of the reason I lost control yesterday was because I saw you falling. And it hurts to admit," she closed her eyes, dark lashes prominent against pale skin, "But the thought of losing you was too overwhelming to keep my humanity in check."

She didn't open her eyes - at least not until she felt the unexpectedly soft pressure of his lips on her eyelids, letting a shiver run through her body. She opened her eyes slowly, more surprised than curious.

"You said it in too many words and still didn't say it," Barry whispered quietly, a sad smile dancing around his lips, "But I love you, too."

She inhaled slowly, her eyes scrutinizing the honesty of his words before her face hinted at a smile, a surprisingly soft smile for a face so hard and cold. The very next instant her smile faltered, turning back into a grim set of lips.

"But that's why I must leave," she said abruptly, a hard edge creeping back into her voice as she gushed, fast and desperate, "I can not do more damage. I will only make matters worse. Because I feel this way about you and because of what I am, Barry, I can not stay here if you want to prevent loss of lives. I'll only lose control everytime you got hurt. We can't afford that."

Barry stumbled verbally at such a quick turn on her thoughts, "No - but - no, Cait, you _can't_ ," he protested, "Not now. Not after what you just said."

"Barry, it's more appropriate that -"

"What's more appropriate," he cut in, taking her face in his hands, passing the warmth of his body to her, "Is that you stay here with us. With me," he sighed tiredly, "I spent months trying to find you, Cait, then few more to convince you for coming with me. And now that I know that you feel the same way about me as I've felt about you for so long, I don't think I can live without you, Caitlin. You must stay. And whatever happens, we will face it together."

Her blue irises jumped over his face, taking in the determination of his words, "I'll hurt you, Barry," she whispered, "I'm afraid I'll hurt you. Or someone else. But I can't do that -"

Barry sighed softly, shaking his head slightly, before leaning down and touching her lips with his own.

Warmth flooded through her face as her control over her powers wavered for a second with the surprise of the moment, briefly absorbing his flushed warmth. She soon pulled it under as her hands settled hesitantly over his chest, kissing him back, determined not to hurt him. It felt surreal, a lost dream coming out of the foggy world of impossibilities. She found her anchor in it. In Barry. In that moment of closeness for the first time in all her life with him.

When they separated, her eyes were strangely still for once, lacking the usual burst of erratic energy. Instead, she stared at Barry, wide-eyed with disbelief.

He took in her awe and touched her forehead with his, smiling breathlessly, "And after this, we will go catch a metahuman."

She was still unsure, "Will you stop me if I seem like loosing control?"

Barry chuckled, stroking a blond strand away from her face, "You won't."

x-x-x

A/N: Right, yeah, it took too long. I know. Sorry about that. I'm one lazy person, as you very well know. And I wanted to take this story to so many places all at once but have to keep it strong too. So I don't know how I did. I guess I'll just wait for you to tell me what you think of it.


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